


Best Laid Plans

by astano



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some Valentine's Day smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

Managing to balance the two coffee cups and the paper bag containing freshly baked bagels in one hand, Santana quietly closes the apartment door behind her and shrugs her coat from her shoulders. It’s early, far too early to be awake and functioning, but Rachel absolutely loves the coffee and bagels from the bakery down the street and, since today is kind of a special day, Santana doesn’t mind that she had to get up an hour early to get down there and beat the morning rush of people.

She’d managed to persuade Rachel against any big romantic gestures, something she’s honestly quite proud of, because Rachel’s a sucker for Valentine’s Day. Really, if it had been up to her girlfriend, Santana would have probably found herself on some ‘romantic’ picnic in the middle of Central Park, and, well, it’s fucking freezing in the middle of February. They’d compromised, when Santana had put on her best pleading face and told Rachel all she really wanted to do was spend the time together and wouldn’t it be a lot nicer, and a lot cheaper on their student budget, to have a romantic evening in.

But she’s not completely without any notion of romance, and getting up at the crack of dawn to fetch Rachel her favourite coffee seems a good way to start. She tiptoes down the hallway, avoiding the creaky floorboards like a pro, and slips into their bedroom. Rachel’s still asleep and Santana pauses for a second at the door taking in her girlfriend’s outline. She’s lying partially on her side, one hand tucked under her own pillow, the other curled atop Santana’s, fingers twitching in her sleep, as if she knows there’s something missing. Rachel has a tendency to wrap herself around Santana while she’s asleep. It was difficult to get used to in the beginning, but now, on the days where Santana has to go to bed before Rachel gets back from her shift at the restaurant, she finds it almost impossible to drop off without the comforting weight of Rachel pressed against her side.

Rachel lets out a murmur in her sleep and shifts restlessly. Santana knows it won’t be long until she wakes up – the girl has a mental alarm clock better than any that could be bought from a store – and so she moves quickly across the room, drops her purchases on the bedside table, pushes off the sweatpants she wore to the store and slips back into bed.

Before she’s even settled down, Rachel’s turning over and blinking up at her with sleep-fogged eyes.

“You’re cold,” Rachel mutters, voice think with sleep and an adorably confused expression on her face.

Santana smiles. “It’s cold outside this time of year,” she replies.

Rachel’s expression deepens into a frown. “What were you doing outside?”

“Well...” Santana drags out the word as she reaches out to grab one of the large paper cups of coffee and hands it over to Rachel. Immediately, Rachel’s expression brightens into one of happiness. She pulls off the lid of the cup and inhales deeply. “You picked up my favourite,” she says with delight, before taking a small sip of the scalding liquid.

“Of course. I bought a bagel for you too, when you’re ready for something to eat. Oh, and...” Santana reaches back to the bedside table and opens the drawer. She fumbles around for a few seconds before pulling out a card and holding it out to Rachel. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she says.

Rachel takes the card and pushes herself up on one arm to press a kiss to Santana’s cheek. “Thank you,” she says and rips open the envelope. Santana holds her breath as Rachel pulls out the card because she’s sure she’s about ten seconds away from being smacked around the head – it reads: _Even though you are the biggest pain in the ass, I love you. Happy Valentine’s day_ – and, the thing is, she totally couldn’t help herself when she saw the card, it was perfect and awesome and Rachel has a sense of humour, so.

And yep. There’s the smack to the back of the head, but Rachel’s got a smile on her face so it’s all good. “I haven’t been a true pain in your ass for years, Santana,” she says.

“Well...” Santana counters, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m pretty sure my ass was hurting like fuck because of you only a few weeks ago.”

“Don’t be vulgar,” Rachel says, but it’s only a cursory protest because Santana knows Rachel was just as into it as she was at the time, if not more. Rachel opens the card then and lets out a snort of laughter as she reads the inside ( _now can we have sex?_ ). “I see you’re letting your card choice be vulgar for you as well.”

Santana smirks and raises her eyebrow. “So...”

“No time, baby,” Rachel replies. “You have class in an hour.”

“I can be quick.”

“I know you can,” Rachel says and then her whole body changes as she leans close to whisper in Santana’s ear. “But I don’t want you to be quick,” she husks out, biting quickly at Santana’s earlobe. “I want slow and dirty. I want you to make me beg for your touch. I want your tongue over every part of my body, driving me crazy. I want you to make me come so hard I pass out. And then I want to do it all to you.”

Heat immediately floods south, pooling in Santana’s panties and her voice cracks as she tries to respond. Rachel almost never talks dirty so when she does Santana’s all but guaranteed to go from zero to ready in seconds. Rachel gives her a wide smile when she finally manages to stutter, “You’re proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Rachel says through her grin. “Now, go. Shower. Perhaps a cold one might be best.”

With a surprising amount of willpower, Santana manages to get through her shower without giving in to the urge to take care of the arousal thrumming through her body. Rachel is right, they don’t have time for anything other than a quick fuck to relieve the tension and she wants to take her time. The anticipation is worth it and there is absolutely no way she’s going to let Rachel get away with her little stunt. Payback is a bitch and, by the end of the day, Santana is going to have driven Rachel insane with her teasing.

When she emerges from their en suite, fully dressed and ready to face the day, Rachel’s sitting in the middle of the bed with a card in her hands. She knows it’s going to be some sappy declaration of love with some form of fluffy animal on the front and barely resists the urge to roll her eyes.

“If it’s got kittens on it, I’m leaving you,” she says and Rachel’s face drops.

“They’re adorable,” Rachel says. “And so are you and I love you.” Her lips form into a pout that should seriously be classified as a weapon of mass destruction because Santana’s mock exasperation is destroyed in seconds.

She takes the card from Rachel and opens it and, okay, so maybe the kittens are cute and Santana briefly feels her insides melt, but that doesn’t mean she needs to let Rachel know, so she just says, “You’re lucky you’re awesome in bed.” But there’s a smile on her face and she leans over to press a kiss to Rachel’s lips. “Thank you. I love you,” she says when she pulls back.

The card gets placed on their dresser, next to the one she bought for Rachel, and then she’s grabbing her backpack from the corner of the room and checking she has her wallet and phone stored away. “I gotta get going,” she says. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Rachel nods and blows her a kiss from the bed and then Santana’s out the door, through the apartment and on her way to her first class of the day.

*

She manages to make it through her morning classes and halfway through her first of the afternoon before her desire to mess with Rachel becomes too great. Slipping her phone out from her pocket, Santana cycles through to the messaging application and begins to type.

_-What are you doing right now? Cos I’m sitting in class, listening to a boring as fuck lecture, and all I can think about is you._

It takes a few minutes for Rachel to respond, and Santana has all but given up, thinking Rachel was probably in the middle of her daily exercise routine, when finally, her phone vibrates and she picks it up to read Rachel’s response.

_-Sorry for the delay – I was in the shower and now I’m getting dressed. What exactly were you thinking about?_

_-You_ , Santana replies, _naked and begging me to take you. God, Rach, I’m getting wet just thinking about what I’m going to do to you later._

Santana sets her phone back down and shifts in her seat, trying to refocus on her lecture, but Rachel’s quick to respond this time and her phone vibrates almost immediately.

_-I’m starting to regret my statement this morning. You’ve no idea how much I want you right now, Santana. Tell me what you’d do if you were here._

Well. Santana suddenly realises a flaw in her plan to mess with Rachel. It was supposed to drive her girlfriend crazy, but she hadn’t thought about what it would do to her own body. She can feel the ache between her legs, one that had never completely subsided, flare up again and she clenches her thighs tight. Her professor is just a monotonous tone, droning on in the background, as she contemplates her reply.

_-You said you wanted my tongue, well, I’d give you my tongue and my lips, kissing you everywhere, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, but never where you needed me. Not until you’re so desperate you can’t take anymore._

She gets a reply in seconds.

_-God. You’re making me  want to touch myself so much, right now, you have no idea._

_-So touch yourself. I want to know just how wet you are. But don’t you dare make yourself come, that’s for me to do when I get home._

Santana knows she’s in serious trouble when, the next time her phone beeps, she unlocks it, only to be greeted with the words, _View MMS_. She throws a look around her, making sure no one is paying any attention to what she’s doing, and then hits the button to view the picture.

She almost wishes she’d waited until the end of the class, because as soon as the picture loads, her jaw drops and her eyes go wide. Rachel’s sat in the corner of their couch, it looks like she’s put the camera on a timer, because Santana can see all of her. Not that there’s actually all that much to see; although Rachel’s legs are spread wide and she’s looking at the camera with her come-fuck-me gaze, she’s still fully clothed. But then there are her fingers, and the source of Santana’s current state of duress. They’re poised halfway to her mouth, and, even with the distance from which the picture was taken, Santana can see Rachel’s wetness coating them. It sends a rush of heat through Santana’s body and she can’t help but wish she had never started this game with Rachel, because she’s losing, and she’s losing badly.

Santana’s still staring open-mouthed at the picture when people around her start to move and she realises her class must have finished. Quickly packing up her textbook and notepad, Santana rises from her seat and heads out of the room. She’s dialling Rachel’s number as she walks and after a couple of rings, Rachel picks up.

“I’m skipping my last class,” she says, before Rachel even has chance to greet her.

Rachel chuckles. It’s throatier than normal and the tone sends shivers down Santana’s spine, because she knows what it takes to make Rachel sound like that, and damn it, she should be the one there causing it.

“I’m serious,” she continues. “I didn’t take in a word of my last class because of you and that fucking picture.”

“May I remind you who started it,” Rachel says and Santana can hear the fucking smirk in her voice.

“Not the point,” she replies. “I’m coming home and you better be ready for me.”

“I’m always ready for you,” Rachel says in a tone that just makes Santana’s insides liquefy. “You have no idea, Santana. Sometimes you just need to look at me in a certain way and I’m a complete wreck.”

“I’m hanging up,” Santana says thickly. “I can’t—God, you can’t say things like that when I’m surrounded by other people. I’ll be home in twenty.”

*

When she gets home, the lights are dimmed and there are candles scattered throughout the apartment, lighting her way into their bedroom. Santana’s torn between finding the gesture cute and rolling her eyes. She drops her coat and bag in the entryway and follows the candles through to the bedroom.

Rachel’s lounging atop the bed and gone are the comfortable clothes she was wearing in the picture. No, she’s changed into a matching set of black lace underwear and Santana’s finds her mouth suddenly dry as she sweeps her eyes over the length of Rachel’s body.

Rachel looks mildly uncomfortable under Santana’s gaze so Santana works her jaw a few times before managing to say, “You look so fucking sexy.”

There’s a smile and then Rachel says, “Well, I was going to wear them this evening, but since you obviously couldn’t wait an extra three hours...”

“And the candles?” Santana smirks, because she knows Rachel is just trying to add some romance to the situation.

Rachel just raises her eyebrow and pats the bed next to her, proving Santana’s not the only one on edge right now so, in an effort to draw out the teasing for a little while longer, she shakes her head and says, “I know you’ve always had a thing about imagining me as a stripper.” Rachel looks like she might want to interrupt, so Santana holds her hand up to stall any protest and continues quickly, “Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

When Rachel’s moved herself up to sit against the top of the bed, Santana starts swaying her hips, she’s not really dancing, just moving from side to side, as her hands begin to caress her own body, eventually moving to undo the buttons on her shirt. Rachel’s eyes are riveted and she’s biting her lip in anticipation as Santana slowly unfastens one button, then another and another until her shirt’s hanging open, revealing her bra-clad breasts to Rachel’s gaze.

Her nipples are hard, straining against the silk of her bra, and she runs her thumbs over them, gasping as the light touch sends bolts of pleasure southwards. Rachel shifts on the bed, her legs visibly clenching together as Santana runs her hands down the front of her body, reaching the waistband of her jeans and popping open the first button. She slides her hand into the gap she’s created, cupping herself over her panties, working her fingers up and down because, now she’s there, she just can’t help but touch herself.

She’s soaked through her underwear and can feel herself getting wetter with each passing second. Her body’s almost completely stopped moving, just the subtle rock of her hips as she works her fingers up to circle her clit. It feels so fucking good, and she almost loses herself to the touch but then Rachel, who has been silent until now, lets out a whimper and Santana snaps her eyes to Rachel’s own. The look in them, _J­­esus_ , it’s dark and desperate and _hungry_ and when Rachel mutters hoarsely, “Santana, I can’t—Take them off. God, just take everything off,” well, Santana almost comes on the spot.

She pulls her hand away with some difficulty and drags her jeans and panties down and off. Her movements no longer aiming for seduction, they’re sharp and efficient. Her shirt is shrugged off as she walks towards the bed and her bra quickly follows. Sinking down onto the mattress, she crawls forward until her body is hovering over Rachel’s and their eyes are locked.

“Hi,” she says, bringing her lips closer to Rachel’s, their breath mingling as Rachel utters a greeting back and then their lips are pressing together in a series of needy kisses. Rachel’s mouth parts quickly into a groan as Santana settles her body down and Santana opens hers too, slipping her tongue out to slide against Rachel’s. She reaches a hand around Rachel’s side when Rachel arches up into the kiss and manages to flick the clasp of her bra undone, quickly pulling it off and throwing it across the room.

Her palm slides back over the curve of Rachel’s breast and she thumbs at a nipple, causing Rachel to whimper into their kiss and arch her body further into Santana’s touch. Santana tugs at the rapidly hardening peak and Rachel drops her head back into the pillow letting out a quiet gasp.

Santana lowers her own head, pressing kisses along Rachel’s jaw and down to her pulse point. She sucks hard on the sensitive spot, all the while never letting up on the attention she’s  paying to Rachel’s breasts. Rachel’s hands are running the length of Santana’s back, fingernails scratching lightly and sending shivers of pleasure down Santana’s spine. It’s driving Santana crazy and when Rachel’s hands dip lower, cupping her ass and pulling her hard against Rachel’s thigh, Santana can’t help the grunt she expels.

“Jesus, Rach,” she says. “I need—fuck, I need to taste you.”

The muted, “God, _please_ ,” Rachel lets out is enough and Santana shifts her body down the bed, pressing quick kisses between Rachel’s breasts and across her stomach. Rachel’s hips twitch when she reaches the edge of her panties and Santana smiles against the skin. She hooks her fingers over the edge of the lace and Rachel lifts up, allowing Santana to drag them down.

Rachel’s legs spread as soon as the panties are off and Santana’s momentarily incapacitated by the surge of pleasure that shoots through her own body at the sight of how easy Rachel just fucking opens for her. She settles back down, arms going under Rachel’s thighs and around to hold her hips, caressing circles into Rachel’s hipbones with her thumbs.

“Ready, baby?” She asks and when Rachel’s only response is a death glare—the effect somewhat diluted by the way her chest is heaving and the needy whimpers she’s releasing—Santana dips her head and runs her tongue through Rachel’s folds.

If she could only be in one place for the rest of her life, it would be here, head between Rachel’s thighs, feeling them tremble against her cheeks and tasting the heady evidence of her arousal. Rachel’s hands moving to grip the back of Santana’s head as she grows closer to release. Santana relishes the feeling of Rachel’s fingers tangling in her hair; the sharp tugs as Rachel attempts to direct the motions of  Santana’s tongue never fail to send bolts of heat downwards, pooling in the pit of her stomach.

She rolls her tongue briefly over Rachel’s clit and then smirks at Rachel’s desperate whine when she pulls back. She might have said she wanted it that morning, but Rachel hates it when Santana teases her. Santana can’t help herself, however. The knowledge that Rachel is entirely at her mercy, will do almost anything for just a little more, a little harder, a little faster, arouses Santana more than anything else in the world.

“Patience, baby,” she murmurs, fingers tightening on Rachel’s hips when they start to buck up.

“I’ve _been_ patient,” Rachel whines. “You’ve been teasing me all day. _Please_.”

“Well,” Santana says. “Since you said please...” And then her head dips back down, drawing Rachel’s clit into her mouth. Rachel lets loose a high pitched cry at finally having some real pressure right where she needs it and her heels dig into Santana’s back as she arches upwards.

She’s whimpering under her breath; phrases that Santana can barely make out, but they sound like _yes_ and _don’t stop_ and _right there_ and _God, Santana, more_ and Santana obliges, slipping one hand down, fingers trailing over the curve of Rachel’s hip, the crease of her thigh and further until she’s dragging them through Rachel’s wetness.

She looks up as she strokes two fingers around Rachel’s opening and feels her stomach flip at the sight of her girlfriend, flushed and desperate, panting in her need for Santana’s touch.

“God, baby, you look so fucking good right now,” she says, but Rachel just tosses her head against the sheets and cants her hips towards Santana’s fingers. Rachel’s so wet that Santana manages to slide two inside with ease and she curls and thrusts, reaching for the sensitive patch of skin that’s going to make her girlfriend scream. When she finds it, Rachel squeals and Santana can feel her walls clenching, making it more difficult for Santana to move her fingers.

Rachel’s letting out half gasps of Santana’s name and incoherent words as she gets closer to release. Her hands are clenched tight in the bed sheets and her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she takes in desperate gasps of air.

“So—God, Santana—so close, so close.” Santana can hear the tremble in her voice and works her fingers harder, runs her tongue in endless circles around Rachel’s clit, until, with a high pitched cry, Rachel comes hard. Santana slows her fingers until the fluttering has subsided and Rachel’s just panting lightly, trying to regain her senses.

She pulls herself up the bed, dotting kisses against Rachel’s skin on the way and settles beside her. They kiss lazily for a few moments until Rachel pulls back with a wicked gleam in her eyes that makes Santana shudder because she’s pretty sure she knows what’s coming next.

Sure enough, Rachel twists her body until she can reach under their bed and into the box housing their toys. She pulls the strap on out and, _fuck_ , Santana suddenly discovers that yes, it is possible for her to become even wetter that she was.

“Help me put it on,” Rachel says and Santana’s fingers are fucking trembling as she reaches out to tighten the harness. Rachel’s only used it on her a few times, but each time Santana’s come so hard she fucking screams.

“On your hands and knees,” Rachel demands and Santana moves so fast that Rachel laughs at her eagerness. There’s something about Rachel taking control that utterly destroys her—it doesn’t happen often and each time Santana finds herself shocked at her own body’s response, but she can’t hide the way her cheek presses into the pillow and her ass thrusts backwards as she begs Rachel to just hurry up and _fuck her_.

She whimpers and grits her teeth as the head of the strap on brushes over her folds. She knows Rachel’s just trying to lubricate it but, _Jesus_ , she’s been on edge all day and she’s so fucking ready.

“Rachel,” she whines and it’s pathetic but it gets her point across. Rachel stops the teasing and slides slowly inside. The groan she lets out at the feeling of being filled is obscene but she can’t help herself. Rachel’s moving now, long, slow strokes that leave Santana keening for more. She pushes back, trying to urge Rachel to go deeper, harder, just give her _more,_ but Rachel keeps the same steady pace until Santana’s completely unravelled, all but sobbing into her pillow.

Rachel bends forward and Santana feels lips grazing her shoulder blades and then there are teeth tugging at her earlobe and Rachel’s voice husking in her ear. “How does it feel, Santana?” She asks and Santana fucking growls. “Don’t be a bitch,” she says and hopes it didn’t come out as desperate as it sounded in her head. “Make me come.”

She’s sure she hears Rachel laugh, but it’s drowned out by the rushing of blood through her ears as finally, _finally_ , Rachel speeds up. For long moments there’s only the sound of skin hitting skin and their laboured breathing until Rachel shifts her hips slightly and the new angle causes Santana to let loose a squeal of pleasure. “Fuck, Rach, there... again.”

It takes only a few more thrusts and Rachel’s fingers sliding against her clit for Santana to shatter, body trembling as she screams out Rachel’s name, only dimly aware of Rachel’s jerky movements behind her as she thrusts a few more times and comes with a groan.

Long seconds later, Rachel pulls out of Santana and slips the harness off. Santana turns onto her back and Rachel collapses next to her. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Rachel says with an exhausted grin.

“Better than a picnic in Central Park?”

Rachel makes a show of checking the clock by her side before saying, “There’s still time..”

“No. Not happening,” Santana says. “If it wasn’t already obvious, the only thing I’m eating tonight is you.”

The outrage on Rachel’s face is enough to send Santana into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry, baby,” she says. “You’re just too easy.”

“You’re crude,” Rachel says and then smirks. “But if you’re up for dessert, I think we’ve got some chocolate sauce in the cupboard...”

“I like the way you think,” Santana replies. “Just... give me a minute to regain the use of my legs.”

“Take all the time you need,” Rachel says as she cuddles up next to Santana. Santana closes her eyes and lets out a sigh of contentment—today is quickly becoming the best Valentine’s Day she’s ever had.


End file.
